


Dearly Beloved

by river_soul



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: Blasphemy, Dark Andy Barber, F/M, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, mob andy barber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: Request - Mob! Andy Barber was promised a wife. It’s all said and done, contracts signed and money in accounts since she was of legal age. But then she ran away and Andy was biding his time until he gets a tip that she’s in another state. Despite his attempts to contact her and coerce her to be with him, he’s finally fed up and takes matters into his own hand. What does a mob boss do???
Relationships: Andy Barber/You
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	Dearly Beloved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syntheticvision](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticvision/gifts).



Someone is screaming, the high, desperate sound echoing off the old stone walls of the convent. When it cuts off sharply you flinch, looking away from the man sitting in front of you. 

“Had to round up a few strays,” Andy tells you with a smile, looking entirely too at ease for a man who just broke into a chapel well after midnight. 

“What are you going to do with the novices?” You ask him, terrified for the safety of the nuns and other young women you’ve come to know and care for over the last year. 

It was hard to imagine that these hallways had been filled with their excited whispers just hours ago as everyone prepared for the vows each of you would take in the morning to dedicate yourself to God. 

“Nothing yet,” Andy assures you with a smile. “What happens to them depends entirely on how well you cooperate.”

“And if I don’t?” You ask him, hands trembling in your lap when his expression darkens. 

“Well, let’s just say it might be hard for some of your sisters to keep that vow of chastity,” he says, turning to share a laugh with the two men behind him. 

“You’re a monster,” you tell him, horrified at the implication. 

“No sweetheart,” he says, any trace of humor or warmth gone from his face as he leans forward to capture your jaw in his hand. “It’s like you said in your letters to Father Abrams. I’m the devil with the face of an angel.”

Cold dread rushes through your body at the mention of the man who spirited you out of Boston to the safety of Holy Cross Abbey. Father Abrams had been your savior after your father all but sold you to Andy Barber to settle his debt. Father Abrams had been so kind and understanding when you showed up at the rectory, terrified at the thought of marrying such a man. Even though you’d only met Andy once at some party your father hosted years ago, his eyes had stayed with you. Soulless and blue, there had been no warmth or goodness in them. It hadn’t been a surprise to learn he killed his own father to take over the family business. 

Like your own father, Andy held onto his power through fear and violence. There would be no love or kindness in a marriage with him. You saw the way your own mother lived, beaten down and terrified of her own shadow. You vowed that would never be you, even if it meant becoming a nun. It wasn’t your first choice but it offered you safety and security, a life far removed from how you grew up. 

“What did you do to Father Abrams?” You ask, voice hardly above a whisper. 

“You should know he didn’t give you up easily. Not until we put the nails to him at least.” Andy grins, amused by his own joke, his gaze flickering to the crucifix behind you. “Don’t worry, I gave him what he wanted. A chance to meet God.”

Horror and anger rise up inside you so sharply that you don’t even realize you’ve taken a step towards him until your palm connects with his cheek. The slap surprises you both, the shock on your face mirrored on Andy’s as you draw your hand away, your palm stinging from the impact. Even with his beard, you can see the bright red mark your hand left against his skin. He clenches his jaw but he doesn’t lash out like you expect. 

He doesn’t move until you step back, terrified.

“That one was for free,” he warns you, fingers digging into the skin of your arm hard enough to make you cry out as he wrenches you towards him. “The next one won’t be.”

With a jerk of his head, the two men behind him disappear only to return a moment later with Father Mahoney. The priest doesn’t meet your gaze, eyes downcast as you take in his purpling face and split lip. At your distressed expression, Andy cups your face in his large hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Don't worry sweetheart, we’re making a hefty donation in your name for all the trouble we caused tonight. Help the convent make those much-needed repairs to the foundation, right padre?” he asks.

Father Mahoney gives Andy a shaky nod. 

“He’s also agreed to marry us tonight. Skip over all the formalities.”

When you shake your head and try to pull away Andy’s gaze darkens.

“Remember the nuns,” he warns.

You swallow heavily and nod your head as Andy forces you to follow him to the altar. You stand together under the watchful eye of Christ on the cross as Father Mahoney all but speeds through the vows, stripped of the normal ceremony and pageantry. It doesn’t surprise you when Andy pulls out a beautiful diamond ring and matching band to slip over your finger. Of course, he came prepared. You’re half surprised he didn’t force you into a wedding gown. 

When it’s your turn you repeat the vows back to him, the words like ash in your mouth as you slide a simple gold band on his finger. When it comes time for the kiss you avert your gaze, jaw trembling with the effort it takes not to cry.

“Look at me,” Andy commands, his voice low with warning. 

Your eyes jump back to his face as a cruel smile blooms under his neatly trimmed beard. You’re not sure what you expect but it isn’t the feel of his palm, cool and dry against the skin of your cheek as he guides you to meet his lips. The kiss is featherlight at first, his lips ghosting against yours before he deepens it, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he all but devours you. 

By the time he pulls away your lips are red and swollen. The hand around your hips forces your body flush against his. Bile churns in your stomach at the feel of his erection against your stomach and the lewd way he rubs himself against you. 

“Guess I don’t have to worry about who has been between those legs for the last year, huh?” He says with a dark chuckle. “Unless this whole thing was just for show?” He asks, dipping his head to catch your gaze.

“I am a child of God,” you tell him, anger and grief making you bold enough to lift your chin and meet his gaze unflinchingly.

“Oh, you’ll have more children for him,” Andy promises. “We’ve got a whole year to make up for.”


End file.
